


enough.

by bokhootou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drinking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Post-Time Skip, SakuAtsu, Slow Build, Slow Burn, atsumu is a dumbass, but not really, he's so oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:00:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23873455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokhootou/pseuds/bokhootou
Summary: He wasn’t supposed to be yearning. He wasn’t supposed to be the one staring at him like a pining idiot hoping he’d get a few crumbs of appreciation for a good toss, or maybe even a snarky comment for a failed service ace. He was arguably the most popular player in their league, with the highest number of fan accounts and yet his eyes trailed a certain grumpy creature who had somehow gotten over his hopeless pining in a day and didn’t make Atsumu the object of his preferential treatment anymore. Frustration flared through his body, his mind refusing to accept that Kiyoomi simply didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t a practice game to be gotten over that easily and he was going to prove it.'I’m going to make him confess, or die trying', he thought grimly.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 314





	enough.

**Author's Note:**

> hii so this is my attempt at getting back at writing after almost 3 years? yeahhhh. this is mostly just me projecting i'm sorry about that. also i sort of gave up midway.  
> enjoy the read and please do give me feedback :) 
> 
> ps: there's some really mild cursing and a little bit of drinking if that bothers anyone.

Everyone who knows Atsumu knows that can be reckless at times. Whether it’s new tricks that he comes up with in the middle of important matches or the manner and extent to which he teases his teammates, it’s well-established that he crosses limits and has no fear in doing so. What they fail to realise, however, is how often his actions are intentional and carefully calculated. What most people don’t realize, is that Atsumu is a very perceptive man.

He teases Hinata about his height only when he knows it will make the younger man to fire up and perform doubly. He performs unexpected setter dumps only because he knows that they are completely unprecedented and risky enough that only he can pull them off. He flirts with Sakusa Kiyoomi only because he knows the freaky-jointed spiker is nursing a massive crush on him. And he hates himself every second of doing so.

The first time Atsumu sensed Sakusa’s soft spot for him was one fine morning when he had successfully annoyed the man into accompanying him for a jog. The two of them had been sharing a room at their hotel for an overseas tournament and their jetlagged bodies had woken them up before sunrise.

“Let’s go for a jog Omi-kun,” he started, knowing well that Sakusa would do anything but accompany his filthiest teammate anywhere voluntarily. As expected, he groaned and rolled his eyes so hard that he almost fell back into his slumber.

“C’mon Omi-Omi” Atsumu whined, progressing into a more irksome nickname, “the air is fresher n’ cleaner in the mornings, why wouldn’t’ you wanna jog now?”

He lumbered over to Sakusa’s bed hoping to bother him till he agreed, deep enough in his mischievous antics that it slipped his mind that this wasn’t his home and Sakusa would not take some friendly physical coercion as lightly as his high school teammates would have. Before the consequences of his actions had settled into his still tired brain, he involuntarily grabbed Sakusa’s arm to get him out of bed before immediately realizing his mistake and withdrawing it. However, unlike anything he’d expected Sakusa quickly grabbed his extended arm with his own hand and pulled himself out of his bed.

In those three seconds of physical contact, Atsumu noticed three things.

1\. Sakusa tensed up and froze as soon as their fingers touched

2\. He couldn’t meet Atsumu’s eyes and had to force himself to level his breathing at the touch

3\. He let go and vanished inside their washroom just as Atsumu noticed a deep red tinge creeping up his neck.

For the first two seconds Atsumu had almost been offended. He knew that Omi-kun was sensitive to touch but he also believed that they’d crossed the boundary where he was physically repulsed by them touching. After all they were teammates, weren’t they? They played on the same court, changed in the same locker room, touched the same volleyball with the same sweaty hands and occasionally high-fived those same sweaty palms. There was no reason for Omi-kun to be so disgusted back then, was there? It was only from the third second and after Sakusa had disappeared into the washroom that another possibility crossed his mind.

What if he had felt the exact opposite?

\---

The next few weeks Atsumu stuck to shadows and watched him. He watched the physical distance between them gradually grow narrower and narrower until it didn’t surprise him when Sakusa offered him a towel or clapped him on the back lightly after a good set. At first Atsumu’s treacherous brain refused to accept that there could be any meaning to these actions. He was simply adjusting his comfort zone to work with the team, right? After all, Bokuto occasionally got a water bottle or a towel, and when Sakusa was in a particularly good mood, even Hinata got his hair ruffled.Despite this, however, it didn’t take Atsumu too long to pick up how some actions were meant exclusively for him. Unlike him, Bokuto wouldn’t get any shoulder pats despite not being as sweaty as Atsumu. Sakusa would never, in a million years, wait for Hinata after practice so they could walk to the bus stop where they parted ways. Clearly, someone got preferential treatment and he definitely didn’t plan on complaining about it.

By this point of their careers, the team was used to Atsumu’s blatant flirting with almost everyone he met and they knew not to take him seriously. After all, whether the others admitted it or not, Atsumu’s aggravating attitude with equal amounts of compliments and challenges played a huge role in boosting everyone’s morale. Atsumu, of course didn’t need anyone to admit this to know it himself and his smug confidence merely added a layer to his disgusting charm. And this was precisely why, when he found out about Sakusa’s weak spot he could not help but use it as a kind of special power on and off court.

 _Strategy_ , was what he said to himself and decided to try something in their upcoming practice match.

It was a relatively easy-going match that day, the kind that was perfect to try out something new or tricky and consequentially, Atsumu’s favourite kind of match. Towards the end of their final set as the other team was on its match point Atsumu sent a meaningful glace to the spiker getting ready to receive in the back row.

 _I’m going to toss to you_ the glance said, _trust me_.

It was slightly risky for sure, and both of them new that. Ideally, a quick over the centre would be something anyone else in their situation would opt for but Atsumu wasn’t ‘anyone’ and a game without risk wasn’t a game to him at all. Sakusa gave no indication of having understood his glance but that didn’t stop him from going through with his toss anyways.

Nothing could stop the grin that fixated itself on Atsumu’s face when the sound of a perfectly sharp line shit reverberated through their court. He jogged towards Sakusa, maintaining steady eye contact and in the last second dodged his outstretched arm for a high-five to let his fingers lightly caress the man’s inner wrist instead.

 _That was your reward_ he conveyed through his eyes, unable to contain his smirk at Sakusa’s crimson cheekbones. Nothing could match the pure glee that spread through his body on getting this reaction.

Winning the game was no huge feat after that.

\---

Growing up with a twin gives one very little chance to hog all the attention possible and Atsumu liked attention. He wanted people to notice how good he was. He wanted them to respect him, maybe fear him a little. He wanted people to want him and Sakusa Kiyoomi did that perfectly. Atsumu felt giddy with power when he saw how pleased he looked when he laughed at one of petty insults, or how flustered he got when Atsumu stared at him too intensely during practice. He enjoyed the power he had over Sakusa. He loved knowing that a single word from him could bring the man to his knees or leave his hands trembling.

Atsumu hated every second of loving it.

When Atsumu was younger, he would often spend hours sleeplessly laying on the bed trying to calm his racing mind. _Will my attitude really cause a problem in my volleyball career? Do Kita-san’s Gods really exist? Why don’t people find ‘samu annoying when I can clearly see what he’s like? Will dad really separate me and ‘samu if we argue on the dinner table?_

More often than not he would start drifting off to sleep only when the first rays of sunlight would begin creeping in his windows and his brothers obnoxious alarm would go off. Sometimes, on nights like this, his brother would wake up and drag him to their backyard where the two would practice their serves until Atsumu was exhausted enough to fall asleep.

As he grew older, of course, he made an effort to fix his pattern for the sake of his health and career, but the last few days had left him preoccupied by his grumpy, black-haired spiker who simply refused to leave his thoughts.

 _Yer the one with a crush jackass_ , he told Kiyoomi in his mind, _so why am I the one spending sleepless nights over ya?_

He let out a sigh, turning to his side and tucking his hands between his knees.

_It’s enjoyable teasing ya. I like the way you squirm when I stare too intensely._

He pulled his knees us to his chest, curling his arms around them.

_Does that make me an ass? I shouldn’t be toying with him, right? But I already know I’m an ass. I’ve come to terms with it._

He let out a low groan as he put his pillow on top of his head and tried to drown out subconscious monologue.

_It’s nice to be looked at like that. Feels funny in my stomach, but it’s sort of validating. Oh. I guess that does make me sort of an asshole. I guess Omi-kun deserves better, he doesn’t need his teammate being an ass to him. He deserves a good friend who cares about him. But them again why does any of that matter to me?_

With his head on top of his pillow, facing the window as the early rays of dawn began falling on his face, he thought, _I’m being unfair by leading him on but I don’t care_.

And finally, as he drifted into a light slumber a small voice laughed in the back of his head

 _Don’t you?_ it said.

\---

The next day, Atsumu made an active effort to stay within his limits. He didn’t mention how soft Sakusa’s curls looked in the morning, didn’t send any extra tosses his way and definitely stopped himself from commenting on how good his form was when he did a nasty spike.

 _Aren’t you paying too much attention?_ he asked himself, and immediately shook the thought out of his mind to focus on the ball. He just had to ignore him and everything would be okay.

The plan didn’t work out for too long as soon enough, Sakusa approached him. Atsumu found him awkwardly hanging around after practice, trying to converse with their teammates. _Cute_ he thought, before quickly pulling a tee-shirt over his still wet head and heading out slowly. Sakusa slowly drifted away from the crowd and busied himself in putting his mask away and pretending he didn’t notice the setter approach him.

“Oh Omi-kun! How come you’re still here?” Atsumu asked mustering as much innocence in his voice as he could.

He glanced at him, noticeably trying to not let his eyes rest on the points where Atsumu’s tee-shirt clung to his still damp body. Atsumu stepped closer and he quickly looked away and pulled his mouth into a grimace.

“I wanted to ask you to send you tosses closer to the net next time,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

It was quite a pathetic excuse and both of them new Atsumu’s tosses were perfect. Moreover, if he ever disapproved of a toss, nothing stopped him from speaking his mind that very second or even going to the extent of not trying to hit it at all. As if to make up for it he glared at Atsumu, trying to challenge him to point something out, but Atsumu, as always, was up for the challenge.

“Oh really?” he asked and grinned cheekily, “if so, then let’s go for dinner Omi-Omi, we can discuss some more strategies and plays.”

Sakusa’s eyes grazed over him as he cautiously regarded the offer as if trying to find some hidden agenda in his words. In the few seconds of contemplation, a whirlwind of thoughts took over Atsumu’s mind.

 _Why did you say that? What if he doesn’t actually like you? God, what would ‘samu say. Were you really arrogant and presumptuous enough to assume something? Now it looks like you’re the one asking him out._ His thoughts were cut off almost immediately when he heard a reply.

“Alright,” Sakusa said and started walking ahead, “but I choose the place.”

Atsumu let out a slight sigh before jogging to catch up with him, “Could ya be any more demanding?” he drawled while nervously laughing off his previous panic in his mind.

 _I have no idea what I’m doing anymore Omi-kun_ , he thought _I have no idea what yer doing to me_.

\---

The two of them ended up in a small, yet surprisingly clean bar with cheap booze and a limited menu to choose from. The owner seemed to know Sakusa and immediately guided them to a relatively secluded booth in the back, away from the rowdy crowd of teenagers by the entrance. Unfortunately, the booth seemed to have been designed for regular sized people and not two super bulky, over six feet tall men and as a result the two of them ended up squished right next to each other, their bodies touching all the way from their shoulders to their knees.

“Are you sure ya don’t mind? We could find a more spacious place if you’d like” said Atsumu with genuine concern about his touch aversion and overall prickly attitude.

Sakusa simply shrugged and shifted a little to give both of them a little more space.

“We both just took a shower,” he pointed out “besides, I know this place is clean.”

Atsumu nodded and sat silently for a while, taking in the woozy atmosphere of the bar and how Sakusa himself fit right in it. He noticed how the man’s unusually pale skin seemed to glow under the dim, red light of the booth, how the smoke from the kitchen behind them made the same patterns his curls made. He noticed his sharp, slightly rosy cheekbones, his natural pout and the way his wrist bend at an odd angle allowing him to rest his face on his unusually bony finger. _Disgusting_ , he thought to himself, wishing he could snap the man’s wrist, maybe break a finger, tug his hair and make his sit straight and lean into his mouth and kiss him har – _wait. ‘tsumu, wtf_.

Atsumu cleared his throat loudly and snapped back to reality. He didn’t know why he thought of the things he did or why his stomach felt the same as it did the day when his high school team captain graduated and he didn’t get to tell him how he felt. And of course, Atsumu being himself decided to deal with this feeling the way he always did.

He ran his hands through his hair and propped his elbows on the table, leaning slightly forward so he’s be within Sakusa’s range of view.

“So, Omi-kun,” he said “how come you’re being nice to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, vaguely gesturing around the place, “you bought me to dinner.”

Sakusa sat up straight and deadpanned, “You asked me, Miya. Did you forget?”

Atsumu shrugged lightly, sitting up straight to match his eye level, “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d agree,” he laughed and waggled his eyebrows, “I must be pretty special huh?”

Sakusa stared impassively, his dark eyes unreadable yet intriguing, as if he was looking at the depth of Atsumu’s soul. Atsumu shifted slightly in his seat, unnerved by the intensity of his glare yet unable to look away from it. The next few seconds felt like an eternity and suddenly he was hyper-aware of every single inch of his body that touched any part of Kiyoomi. Starting from the tips of their shoulders, to their elbows where he could sense the man’s toned arm through both their layers of clothing, and further down till where Sakusa’s lazy man spread made their knees bump under the table, despite Atsumu taking special care to not overstep his boundaries.He suddenly let out a deep chuckle and leaned close enough for Atsumu to make out his monstrously long eyelashes.

“Maybe you are,” he whispered.

Before he could comprehend what had happened, Sakusa scooted away and distractedly looked around for any sign of the food they’d ordered. He tapped his foot a little impatiently and ran his fingers through his curls, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs.

 _Nasty,_ thought Atsumu, trying to ignore his racing heart. _Real nasty, Omi-kun._

Eventually the both of them regained composure, and the rest of dinner was pretty uneventful. They spoke about the match they’d previously played and the match that would be airing the following week. Sakusa seemed curious about his brother’s business , Atsumu asked about his college days and despite his to-the-point answers, the conversation seemed to flow naturally between them with occasional bad jokes, sarcastic remarks and an overall lack of laughter enough for them settle back in their initial dynamic and forget anything that has happened.

Eventually the artistic curls of smoke dispersed into tiny wisps and the loud background chatter of the bar was reduced to soft whispers between those still left behind. Sakusa abruptly got up to leave, subtly signalling the owner to add the bill to his tab and Atsumu grabbed his things in a hurry and followed him.

“I’m not one for formalities Omi-kun,” he drawled as he jogged lightly to keep up with the taller man, “don’t expect me to offer to split the bill”

“Asshole” Kiyoomi muttered without missing a beat, “you pay next time.”

 _Next time_ , he thought, feeling slightly giddy with the cheap booze and power rush that went through him. He made no comment about it and the two of them ambled slowly towards a bus stop from where they would part ways.

As they neared the end of their walk, Atsumu reached the punchline of a rather stupid anecdote he was narrating and he heard Kiyoomi let out a small laugh for the first time that night, for which he quickly pulled up his mask and looked away as if nothing had happened. If it had been any other moment, he would’ve teased him for being capable of smiling but with Sakusa’s curls lightly framing his face and his cheeks dusted with roses under a dim streetlight, the only thought that crossed his already dull mind was _pretty_.

That night, Atsumu slept well.

\---

The next day Sakusa avoided him throughout practice.

Atsumu couldn’t remember saying anything too uncharacteristic the previous night. It wasn’t as if he’d flirted any more than usual, it wasn’t like he’d pushed his boundaries, and yet Kiyoomi refused to even look his way as the day went on. Of course, both of them were professional enough to not let this affect their dynamic on court but there was a palpable tension in the air that Atsumu found unbearable.

He was annoyed. A part of him couldn’t believe that he wasn’t being longingly stared at the way he’d gotten used to while another part of him was simply annoyed at himself for becoming so hyperaware of Sakusa in such a short time. Miya Atsumu was an observant man and that day he couldn’t keep his eyes off one frosty wing spiker. That day, Kiyoomi ran his hands through his hair exactly 12 times, wiped his forehead and neck over 20 times, hit 8 cross shots and 9 cutthroat line shots, allowed a brief smile to ghost his face when Shouyou rambled about another incident in Brazil, and did not look at Atsumu even once.

 _Stupid Omi-kun_ , he thought, as he aimed another serve of their practice set towards the back row where he stood. _Notice me_ he yelled through his serve, trying to draw Sakusa’s attention with every fibre of his being, but latter dug the ball cleanly and refused to even gloat in Atsumu’s direction. _Why aren’tcha looking at me today Omi-kun, what happened? Did last night’s dinner change yer mind about me?_

Atsumu felt pathetic, but more than that he was pissed off. Never in his life had he craved attention from someone this badly, not even Kita-san. He could feel the bloom of embarrassment corroding the bottom of his stomach as he thought about how he’d actively told himself he wasn’t yearning.

He wasn’t supposed to be yearning. He wasn’t supposed to be the one staring at him like a pining idiot hoping he’d get a few crumbs of appreciation for a good toss, or maybe even a snarky comment for a failed service ace. He was arguably the most popular player in their league, with the highest number of fan accounts and yet his eyes trailed a certain grumpy creature who had somehow gotten over his hopeless pining in a day and didn’t make Atsumu the object of his preferential treatment anymore. Frustration flared through his body, his mind refusing to accept that Kiyoomi simply didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t a practice game to be gotten over that easily and he was going to prove it.

 _I’m going to make him confess, or die trying_ , he thought grimly.

\---

Atsumu rushed to their lockers when practice ended, determined to catch him before he went in for his bath. He walked in on a shirtless Sakusa with a mere towel hanging around his neck, who immediately frowned and looked away as soon as he saw Atsumu approaching him.

“Why’re you avoidin’ me,” he blurted as soon as he reached, placing himself between Kiyoomi and his locker while trying desperately to ignore the glistening sweat by his collarbones.

Sakusa crossed his arms in front of himself, and narrowed his eyes, as if unable to comprehend what he was saying. Atsumu forced his eyes to not glance at how low his shorts hung below his navel and looked him in the eyes. _Mistake!_ his brain yelled, because now he was locked in place by the intense glare in them.

He took a deep breath and shifted his weight to one foot, shrugged and forced a small smile on his face, refusing to let Sakusa see how affected he was by the whole affair.

“I mean,” he continued “I know why yer avoidin’ me.”

When refused the dignity of a response or a reaction, Atsumu swallowed all remaining hesitation he had and said exactly what was on him mind.

“You like me,” he declared. “I’ve seen the way ya look at me Omi-kun, and I know ya like me. That’s why yer not talking to me, isn’t it? It was obvious, Omi-Omi.”

He let out a small chuckle and stepped closer to the spiker who gave no reaction at all. “Well I’m sorry, but I don’t care for ya like that. I don’t care for anyone like that. You’ve gotcha get over it.”

Atsumu wasn’t sure what he’d expected after this assertion but it definitely wasn’t the soft, mirthless chuckle that escaped Sakusa.

“Miya, did you really think I didn’t know this? Did you think I can’t see through you the way you see through me? Did you think I didn’t know you knew? Did you think I didn’t know you’d reject me?” he asked.

Atsumu felt his throat dry up and his grin slowly disappear from his face. Kiyoomi took a small step towards him, backing him up against a locker door.

“All you’ve ever wanted, even since high school was attention. You want to bask in the glory people give you without ever paying them a second glance. You want respect, you want reverence, but that’s never enough is it? You want to be better. You want to be the one on the higher ground, deciding who’s worthy of your attention and who isn’t. You want to make people love you, make them feel like they’re the one’s who have you under control, before you leave them for whatever can grab your attention next. You like the power that comes with rejecting someone. It gives you a high, keeps you going on court for days. Did you think I didn’t notice you Miya?”

He could see every inch of Kiyoomi clearer than the day that second. He could make out the greenish vein that popped in his neck, he could see the way his furrowed eyebrows distorted the moles on his head. He could almost feel his breath against his face, before Sakusa suddenly backed up and sighed.

“I went farther than I should have last night, I should’ve distanced myself from the beginning, but now that this is done, you better leave me alone, because I can’t take anymore,” he said softly, letting the briefest of emotions lace his voice in a tired manner. Before Atsumu could say a word, he let out a bitter, humourless laugh and said, “It’s a shame that I like you, Miya. I don’t know why and trust me I don’t think I want to. But it’s insulting that you thought I wouldn’t know what you’re like as a person and like you anyways.”

And suddenly he was gone, leaving Atsumu gasping for words to say.

\---

If Atsumu had trouble sleeping earlier, it was nothing compared to the hours he lay awake after his altercation with Sakusa took place. His words kept ringing in his ears and even though nothing he’d said was news to Atsumu, hearing it from another person had a significantly different effect on him that berating himself for it would have. In the weeks that followed Atsumu could not bring himself to even look in Sakusa’s direction. He wasn’t familiar with the feeling that filled his gut but guilt and regret would be the closest to it.

Despite their best efforts, the broken cord between them was apparent to their teammates. Sakusa seemed to have regressed back into his grumpy, cold exterior that he had been when he was still new to the team and although Atsumu tried his best to keep up his carefree façade, no one missed the split second of sadness that would flit across his face every time he stopped laughing or though no one was watching. Of course, this didn’t stop either of them from performing spectacularly and their attitudes made it clear they weren’t willing to talk so any thoughts about broaching the topic with either of them was quietly discarded by their teammates.

“You wanted this Atsumu. You weren’t gonna date him or anythin’, so what did ya expect?” he told himself in the mirror almost every day. _Liar_ , his treacherous brain replied. _You never wanted this distance between ya two_.

The problem was that he didn’t know what he wanted.

After almost a month of endless introspective nights, Atsumu finally decided to call his brother up. He didn’t know whether it was the ungodly hour of his call or the tone of his voice, or simply their shared curse from the womb that set the tone, but he wasn’t subject to any vulgar names or snarky comments when his brother answered.

“What do you want?” was what he asked and that was all the prompt he needed to jump straight into a tireless tirade of everything that had happened. He didn’t know what exactly he expected his brother to say at the end of it, but what he got seemed satisfactory enough.

“You dumbfuck.” Osamu deadpanned over the phone, clearly far more awake than he was when he’d picked up the call at 3 in the morning.

“What do I do” Atsumu asked, hoping desperately that his brother wouldn’t say what he already knew.

“You know what I’m going to say” was all he said before he hung up the phone.

“Annoying bastard”, Atsumu muttered, and threw his phone across his bed and tried to force himself to sleep.

 _You miss him_. said the voice that was beginning to sound more and more like Osamu by the day.

“Shut yer mouth”, he grumbled again before placing the cooler side of the pillow on top of his head, hoping for the millionth time that he’d be over it all in the morning.

But when morning finally crept through his window and he got ready to go for a run all by himself once again, it finally hit him that maybe, _just maybe_ he really did miss Sakusa.

That day, once again, Atsumu watched him from the shadows. This time, however, he saw more than the man who had a crush on him. That day, he heard the sarcastic remarks he muttered when Hinata tried to carry their captain and missed being able to laugh out loud at it without making the situation awkward. That day, Atsumu saw the small quirk of a grin on his face when Bokuto narrated a story and missed being the one who would put that grin there. That day Atsumu saw the tireless effort he put, serving, receiving, spiking, blocking, hour after hour without any distractions and missed being able to challenge himself to do better by riling him up like the competitive freaks they both were.

That day when Sakusa wiped his face for the 20th time and accidentally messed up his hair, the only thought that went through his mind was _I like him_.

And this time, he didn’t fight himself about it.

\---

Atsumu knew it would be near impossible to take a shower and catch up with Sakusa before he left, but challenges were an everyday routine and Atsumu believed he was born to do the impossible so he went for it anyways. And that was how he ended up practically chasing Kiyoomi from their court till the park on his way home, soaked with sweat despite his shower and still trying to tie the cord of his waistband before he finally caught up with Sakusa who looked at him like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

I’m sorry,” he spouted before he stumbled on the grass and fell on his ass. He stayed there for a second, levelling his breath and avoiding looking up at Kiyoomi’s expression. Suddenly, the other man squatted on front of him, balancing on his toes with his hands crossed, careful not to touch the grass.

He pulled his mask down below his chin and asked, “What do you mean?”

Atsumu stared straight at him and quickly tried to wipe his palms on his track pants. He took a deep breath and then continued – “I’m sorry, Omi-kun. I really am sorry. You were absolutely right; I shouldn’t have acted the way I did” he gulped and tried to get rid of the scratchy feeling in his throat. _You fool_ he thought _you’re grimy and sweaty and so close to rambling, is this how you confess?_

He laughed nervously at the lack of reaction from Sakusa and went on. “I wasn’t oblivious, I knew what I was doing and I’m sorry I couldn’t stop myself. I mean, ‘twas pretty shitty of me I agree but I swear I didn’t mean to hurt ya Omi-kun, it didn’t even hit me in the locker that day actually, but I’d gotten so used to you without realising, and I’m sorry like I said, but also I miss your stupid insults, and dinner that one evening was so nice and it’s so boring jogging without you so I think I miss-”

“Miya stop” he said quietly, but Atsumu didn’t seem to have heard him.

“And I know you aren’t a sap and honestly I’m not either so I’m really not expecting you to react to this, but you see I called ‘samu yesterday and he said this thing and I just figured I should talk to you, ya know? Maybe I-”

“Miya you’re rambling, please stop” he said a little more firmly this time, but Atsumu simply shook his head a little and went on.

“What I’m really tryin’ to say, Omi-kun is that I realised only after the whole locker room incident but I made sure this time that I wasn’t toying with you, I promise I’m serious Omi-Omi, but I really, really like you and I-”

“Atsumu stop,” he said forcefully, and he shut up almost immediately and looked at Kiyoomi waiting for any sort of reaction from his stony face.

‘You’re dirty" he said bluntly.

Atsumu paused for a second and fought a smile of his face. Of course, he would say that. It was stupidly endearing in a way.

“You’re right, I’m dirty,” he said and looked up at Kiyoomi who hadn’t moved an inch from his position. _Strong thighs_ crossed his mind before he composed himself and waited for another response.

Sakusa stood up abruptly and looked away in an awkward manner before finally speaking. “I might have some extra sweatpants at home, it’s close enough if you’d rather not travel back looking like that. You have to shower again though," he added with a pointed look.

Atsumu let out a small, relieved laugh and held his hand out. “Help me up?" he asked.

"Disgusting." Kiyoomi grumbled and walked away from him. "Don’t take too long or I’ll lock the door on your face," he called back, “And stop trying to be nice, it’s creeping me out”

Atsumu scrambled up to catch up with him, making suggestive jokes about sharing clothes, not knowing what was going to happen to them and not really caring about it either. 

For now, whatever they had was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not too proud of this fic but they say practice makes perfect so i'm going to keep writing.  
> i'm sorry about the characterization, my opinion of tsumu changed in the time i wrote this but it was already done.  
> i originally had something else planned but im not a good enough writer yet to put it in words but that idea remains with me so hopefully someday.  
> please leave some feedback in the comments! Thank you for reading :)


End file.
